


If you can't stand the heat, do it in the dining room

by froofie



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froofie/pseuds/froofie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict wants his shirt back, you're just trying to make dinner. Sex is the only compromise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you can't stand the heat, do it in the dining room

**Author's Note:**

> Love and sexy praise to qhuaylover who wrote about 50% of the second part of the story.

It’s one of the first chilly days of the season and you’re in the kitchen making soup. You’re entranced with stirring the pot and you don’t notice that Benedict has sauntered up behind you until you feel him brush your hair to the side and slowly kiss the left side of your neck. You can feel his warm breath on your skin and you melt a little, tilting your head to give him space but you keep on stirring. He starts running his hands down your sides and he stops them at your hips. He places another kiss on the back of your neck and licks. An unexpected giggle escapes from your throat.

There’s movement behind you and you realize he is now kneeling close against your body. You feel his warm hands slide under your shirt (the lavender plaid one w/ the snaps that you stole from him. It’s way too big on you but you like it anyway. It smells like him and it makes you feel like he’s holding you). Then you realize he’s got his head inside the shirt, and he’s slowly kissing your back. The shirt pulls tight in front and you’re forced to lean back into what he’s doing. Your breathing gets deeper and quicker. Your knees start to buckle. He holds on tight to your hips to steady you. It feels like the world has shrunk to a pinpoint and it’s just you and him now. That’s all there is.

 

You hear him purr a little to himself when he realizes you don’t have on anything under the shirt. And while he kisses and licks your back, taking little love bites now and then, his hands reach around to the outside front of the shirt, brushing your breasts lightly. The tension in your body starts to drain. “MY shirt,” he reminds you, playfully. He begins pulling at the snaps, slowly, one at a time; after each snap comes another kiss with his full lips. Snap. Kiss. Snap. Kiss. You make audible moans. You can’t stand how incredibly hot this is, how creative he’s being. With each release of a snap you feel the blood rushing to your groin. Still kissing your spine, Benedict begins caressing your now exposed breasts. He’s slow and tender and you moan a little. Your nipples harden and he palms them delicately. His hands run down your stomach. Your breath is shallow and quick. Electric currents of anticipation and desire run through your body and land between your legs. 

He comes out from under the shirt and stands up. You can’t help but fall back into his chest. He runs his long fingers inside around the waistband of your skirt as he presses himself against your back. You can feel that he’s hard and you let out a sigh at his loving forcefulness. But he doesn’t try to turn you around. Not yet. He’s moved from the waistband (where he can feel that you don’t have on any panties) and he’s shifted your legs apart. You can feel your wetness on your inner thighs and you can’t wait for him to notice it. Sure enough, he stoops behind you again and starts running his right hand up your inner left thigh. When he gets to the wet spot, he stops and sweeps his fingers around in it. You hear a deep “mmm” come from his throat and your skin vibrates.

His thumb delicately opens your lips a little, and you press into it, shifting your hips in a circle. He sweeps a finger over your clitoris and you press back more insistently, starting to pant. You can feel his body heat rising behind you. He tugs at your skirt until it falls to the floor. He kisses your left hip and removes your shirt. He puts his hand on your belly and starts to turn you around but you tell him to hold on. You stop stirring and turn off the stove. Dinner can wait.

OoOoOo

He turns you around and, for the first time since this started, you see his face. “Hello there,” he growls as he cocks one cheeky eyebrow up. He’s smiling down at you sweetly but there’s a wicked devil in his eyes, his ginger curls standing around his face in sexy disarray. He has no idea how hot he looks. You smile back because his angelic face belies him. He leans down and brushes his soft, full lips against yours. Your mouth opens on a sigh and he takes advantage, swiping the tip of his warm tongue inside your lips. Little by little he works his way inside your mouth, languidly moving his tongue in a sensual imitation of sex. He tastes of mint and himself and you drink him in. He reaches down and grabs your bottom with both hands and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his tapered waist, his strong arms hold you up so well. You register that feeling safe in his arms is so sexy. You don’t break apart for even a moment, the rhythm of your tongues a dance that sets your heart pounding. Walking you over to the dining room table, he sits down on a chair and you straddle him, knees secure on either side of his muscular thighs. It feels naughty being naked in this room where you’ve held so many dinner parties. You feel expanded and bold and it sets you aflame. You’re more turned on than you’ve ever been. He runs his hands up and down your thighs occasionally grabbing and kneading your ass. The thrusts of his tongue are more insistent now, pressing in deeper as if he’d love to just devour you on the spot. Deep groaning sounds emanate from deep within him, vibrating through his skin until you feel them, too. Your head spins that you’ve this much power over him, that you’ve reduced him to this. Your desire for him overwhelms you, it defines all of your movements. .

The leg of his jeans are damp as your wetness betrays you, an unstoppable flow of arousal that begs to be used for a purpose. You run the tip of your tongue in the shell of his ear and whisper that he needs to get out of his damp clothes before he catches a chill. A soft huff of laughter warms your neck as he nips at you playfully and tells you that he needs help, as his hands are occupied. You move your hands to the buttons of his shirt, deftly unfastening each one while your attention stays focused on his neck, that long beautiful stretch of muscle and skin that begs for hot, open-mouthed kisses and long, sensual licks. He angles his head away in response, silently encouraging you to continue. You nuzzle then kiss his Adam’s apple. You shift the shirt off of his shoulders slowly, marveling at the gradual reveal of smooth, creamy skin underneath, the freckles over it that you know by heart, even as it now blushes pink with arousal. You slink your hands over his tight bicep muscles. His large hand trails over your backside, long arms making it possible for him to reach underneath and touch his fingers to your wet heat. Your concentration is broken as you gasp open mouthed to the ceiling and then bring your head down to boldly look him in the eye. There’s a wicked devil in your gaze now. Biting your lip, you stare at him, watching the irises of his blue-green eyes recede in the midst of his desire, your hips rocking against his fingers that are now pressed inside. His breath shudders out your name as he presses deeper.

You can feel his erection pushing against his jeans as you rock your pelvis back and forth against it, in time with his fingers. You stop for a moment to feel his hardness against your hand and the fabric. With every stroke inside you, you stroke him back, a sultry, approving sound rising in your throat. You unbutton his jeans and reach your hand down just far enough to feel coarse hair mixed with wetness. It’s your favorite thing, his pre-come. You’re soaking wet, still riding against his slippery fingers.

With his other hand, he pins his now bare chest to yours; you can feel the soft hair on his chest brushing your nipples. The sensation pearls them to points and he lowers his mouth to one, drawing it into his warm, wet heat. He flicks his tongue over your nipple and sucks. You lower your head to watch him, feeling him everywhere around and inside you. He lifts you up, startling you for a moment and places your feet on the ground. You gaze at him dazedly as he breaks away and slips his fingers out of you, afraid that your knees will buckle, particularly when his hands move to his jeans. He makes quick work of them, pushing them and his pants aside and stands like a greek sculpture in front of you, a chiseled model of perfection in every aspect, his thick erection arching away and up from his body as if searching you out. He reaches out to stroke your wet areola with his thumb and your eyes close. A chuckle rumbles from him. Not a cruel one, he’s not doing this to torture you, he’s doing it to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible, to maintain control while making you feel cherished and worshipped. This is what has drawn you to him, that he has two sides to him, aggressive and commanding, yet loving and gentle. It’s your secret, your treasure that you get to see this, and you hold it close to your heart. It heightens everything. Colours how you see him in everyday situations, when you can smile a private smile that only you and he are able to translate.

You close in to press your body against his, he leans his head down for another wet kiss. You can feel him rocking his pelvis against your lower abdomen. You make just enough space between your bodies so your hand can reach in to stroke him. His own wetness makes it easy to glide your hand up and down his shaft, thumbing the top whenever you reach the head. He arches into your motion. You watch his face while you feel him, his eyes are closed and his full mouth is open. He lets out a quiet, “Fuck” to himself. You smile a little at how happy you are that he is yours to play with and how much you love to watch him react to your touch. He is so expressive, open and giving. Your grip tightens and quickens and he bites his lip. You gently cup his testicles and sense them tensing. He’s close so you move your hands around his waist, pausing to run your hands over his butt before you bring your hands up to his neck. You pull his head down and invite him into your mouth again. His tongue responds and expresses his gratitude for what you are doing to him. Your fingers thread their way through his curly messy hair.

He puts both hands under your armpits and lifts you up again like before. He sits back down on the chair and wraps his arms around you tight. His passion and love for you is so apparent. Coming out of the hot embrace you place your feet on the floor and stand up, straddling him. You place one hand around his neck. He looks up at you. With his head tilted up like this it’s hard to not see the vulnerable little boy in him. Your heart bursts open more, your desire deepens. He stares at you more intently as his right hand runs down your belly and cups your moist heat. His whole hand covers you. He slips in two fingers just inside, keeping eye contact, wanting you to watch him while his thumb draws circles on your clitoris. You start rocking gently forward and back and his thumb moves quicker. Your breathing is hard and fast. “I want to be inside you,” he rumbles. You shake your head in agreement.

He slowly removes his hand. You take his penis and, moving closer to him, guide him inside you, pushing into you, spreading you wide. He tilts his head back and moans and you both stop for a moment, frozen in time as you just…enjoy. You’re aware only of his energy, his body mingling with yours. You hold each other tight. It feels so beautiful and so intense you almost want to cry. He brings his head up from your shoulder and begins to suck hard on your neck in yearning. His movements entice you and you begin rocking your pelvis back and forth, breath heavy in his ear, clutching at his hair. He fills you, slots inside like the final puzzle piece because you fit so perfectly. Moving slowly as your breath mingles between you, the friction where you are joined feels exquisite. You can feel him enlarge even further inside of you and he holds you down with one hand, fingers digging into the skin of your hip, clawing your back as if to somehow get inside you anyway he can. Tomorrow you may have bruises, but you don’t care. His other hand snakes between you to touch where you are joined, the pads of his fingers rubbing along the folds of your womanhood, his thumb pressing that tender spot to trap it between it and his cock. He jerks his hips up suddenly, grinding even deeper and he captures your mouth again in a sloppy, lust filled kiss. His hips snap up over and over again and all you can do is hold on and ride him, and enjoy…Oh, how you love this. You love being this close to him. Every time you think you can’t get any closer, you look in his eyes and fall deeper into him.

The tension builds and inarticulate sounds are coming from the both of you now, as the urge to move, faster, harder overtakes you both. Your inhibitions are completely gone. You arch your back and your torso away from him, moving your hips closer to his. He holds you with one hand as you bend backwards and, with your body offered to him like his, he takes full advantage. He runs his hand from your neck, to your breasts and down over your stomach, taking it all in. You rub your clit faster. You rise up and see him watching the two of you connecting at the pelvis, watching you pleasing yourself. You squeeze his penis inside you and watch his eyes roll back. His mouth moves to your neck again. Your breath becomes shaky, rasping out of your mouth. You completely let go, following your own impulses to scratch the itch regardless of what he’s doing. You can tell he’s very much enjoying watching you be like this and you pour it on, feeling safe to express yourself with him. Everything about the moment flashes through your brain at once: dirty sex in the dining room, his tapered muscular waist, his veiny arms, everything that is behind his eyes, his abundant sexual energy open only to you, your own sexual feminine power receiving him and he’s inside you, inside you, inside you. You try and kiss him, but you’re so focused on your hip movements, the burning in your thigh muscles, you can only open your mouth against his. He opens his and laps his tongue inside your mouth, sending you over the edge, climaxing in hot, greedy pulses and then slowly relaxing everything. He holds you tight, you move your head to his right ear and lick inside. You purr his name into his ear, “Benedict…..mmm.” He lifts the both of you up slightly off the chair, your legs start to move around his waist when he thrusts in deep and holds it there, panting into the crook of your neck and shoulder, crying out a little. You can feel the warmth of his essence inside of you, branding you from the inside out. He brings you both down to the chair, your heartbeats calming, just as the timer in the kitchen goes off. You both start laughing hard, your bodies shaking from the release of tension and you sigh as you kiss his temple, “I guess supper’s ready, love.”


End file.
